PIEnocchio the Wooden Newsie
by Rustie73
Summary: Crack!fic fairytale of PIEnocchio the wooden Newsie, and Dutchy the boy with the kind heart and an abundance of hormones . SLASH Humor. 1899.
1. Fathers and Sons

A/N:

Just for fun.

Has anyone noticed the similarities between Pie Eater's costume, and that of the cartoon character, Pinocchio? I didn't, until FriskyWallabee brought it to my attention.

This ridiculous story was born from that strange and astute observation.

Crack!fic fairytale of PIEnocchio, the wooden Newsie, and Dutchy (the boy with the kind heart and an abundance of hormones.)

SLASH Humor. 1899.

DISCLAIMER:

I don't own Newsies, Pinocchio or any characters from either movie.

PIEnocchio

Chapter 1 – Fathers and Sons

Once upon a time, in the far away city of Manhattan, lived a little boy named Geppetto Kloppman.

Geppetto wasn't like other children. He never dreamed of becoming a fireman, or a cowboy, or even The President of the United States. Geppetto had an artistic soul and a wonderful imagination. His dream, for as long as he could remember, was to become a woodcarver.

While the other children laughed and played in the streets, Geppetto Kloppman sat outside of his family's tenement building and carved. The seasons changed and the years passed, and still, working to fulfill his life's dream, Geppetto sat diligently on the stoop.

One morning Geppetto's mother, Pasqualina Regina Annunciata DePompencio Chin-Lee Kloppman, and her husband, Morty, sat down to have a talk about their son.

"Today is a very sad day for our family." Morty sighed. "The cupboards are empty and the rent is due and we haven't the money to pay the landlord or the grocer. I have lost my job because I am old, and I am unable to find work elsewhere. I am truly saddened that I must break our son's heart and tell him that he must abandon his dream of becoming a woodcarver. It is time for our son, Geppetto, to go out into the world and work to support our family."

Pasqualina Kloppman turned to her husband and gently took his tired face into her loving hands. "So make the kid go out and get a job, already! He's been spungin' off'a us long enough. And why do you always sound like you're from some old-world storybook? You're from Brooklyn for shit's sake. Now, get you're keister up out'a that chair and kick that kid's lazy ass to the curb already. Tell 'im he either gets a job, or he's history!"

Sadly, Morty trudged down the stairs to find his son. There on the stoop, he found a pile of wood shavings eight and a half feet high. "I guess that the kid has been sitting around and carving for too long," he mused.

The elder Kloppman dug through the mound of wood shavings until he touched something that felt like hair and a pair of ears. He mustered all of his strength and then pulled his son from the mound.

"Hi-ya, Pops. What's shakin'?" the boy asked.

"The time has come for you to go to work, my son. The rent is due and we have no money to pay the landlord or to buy food. I have lost my job, and am too old to find another. Now, I must pass the torch to you. It is your duty to go out and help our family."

"Sorry, Pops, no can do. You can't expect me to go out and do manual labor. My hands are the instruments of my craft, and I need time to perfect my technique if I'm ever going to be a muckety-muck in the art world."

"It pains me to say this, my son, but you must give up your dream of becoming a woodcarver. Today you are a man, and a man must do what a man must do."

"What is this, my bar mitzvah?"

"No, my son. Think of this as your circumcision. Mazel tov!" Morty said as he grabbed his son by the collar and kicked him into the street. "And don't come back until you have a job!"

Sadly, Geppetto set off to find a work to help his family.

When he returned that evening, he took the stairs two at a time and burst through apartment door. Morty was both surprised and delighted to see the impressive pile of coins that Geppetto setout before him.

"Where did you get all of this money, my son?"

"Sellin' newspapers, Pops. I got myself a job sellin' papes for the _New York World_."

"My son, the journalist! You've made your papa very proud."

It was a fine life, as they say in the newspaper business. Geppetto worked very hard and did his duty to support his family. With his dream of becoming a woodcarver abandoned, he continued selling newspapers until he was seventy-six and was the oldest working newsboy in the city of New York. His parents were now gone, and he decided that it was time to make a change. He traded in his knickers and newsie cap (because a man of his age looked totally ridiculous in that get-up) and got himself a pair of long pants, a bowler hat, and a new job. He was now the operator and caretaker of the Duane Street Newsboy's Lodging House.

Again, it was a fine life, but Geppetto was very lonely. He never had time to find a wife and to start a family of his own. Though taking care of the newsies was a lot like being a father, it wasn't quite the same. The boys would grow older and leave the lodging house, and Kloppman would never hear from them again.

One night, as Geppetto Kloppman sat in his meager room feeling lonely and sorry for himself, he got an idea. "If I can't have a son of my own, I'll create one!"

For the next three weeks, Geppetto stayed in his room and carved. As the wood took shape, he became more and more excited about the arrival of his very own son. He sculpted each piece with loving care and expert craftsmanship and added the final touches by painting his creation a pair of sparkling brown eyes and a mass chestnut brown hair.

When his task was completed, Geppetto Kloppman spread the word throughout the lodging house that all of the newsies were to meet at his desk at 2:00 p.m. sharp. He said that he had a big surprise for everyone.

As the boys gathered around, they speculated as to what the surprise could be.

"Maybe we're gonna get some new blankets," Skittery mused. "These winter nights are getting colder each year."

"Hey! Maybe Kloppman's getting us a new woodstove for the bunkroom." Snitch beamed with excitement. "That would be even better than blankets."

The boys' excitement grew as they speculated on what their surprise would be. Finally, Geppetto emerged from his room wearing his best suit of clothing. He'd even donned a starched white collar and a striped bowtie.

"Damn, Kloppman," Racetrack called from the back of the group. "Did somebody die? You look like you're goin' to a funeral or somethin'."

"No, Racetrack, nobody died. This is a happy occasion. In fact, this is the best news ever."

"C'mon, Kloppman, spill it," Snoddy said, taking a swipe at his nose. "Tell us about the big surprise."

"Well, I have some wonderful news. We are going to have a new boy living with us here at the lodging house. But this isn't just any boy; this is someone very special. I've gathered you all here today, so you can meet my very own son."

"You have a son?" Jack asked in amazement. "Where've you been hidin' 'im all these years?"

"I never had a son before now," Geppetto replied.

"Are you saying that you've just become a father now? As in the kid is new, and you didn't have him when you were younger?"

"That's right. I now have a son to take care of me and to keep me company when I get old."

"_When_ he gets old?" Skittery whispered. "Kloppman's already old. He's older than dirt. I bet he graduated a year before Moses. I wouldn't think that the old man could keep it up long enough to make a kid. And even if he could keep it up, who'd he find that's still young enough to have a baby and desperate enough to sleep with him?"

"That paints a disturbing picture in your mind, doesn't it?" Racetrack shuddered.

Skittery's face contorted as he imagined what Kloppman might look like in the throes of passion. "Damn. It'll take me years to get that picture out of my head. It's probably gonna give me nightmares!"

"Okay, boys," Geppetto announced. "Without further introduction, I want you all to say hi to my son, PIEnocchio." With that, he reached under the desk and pulled out a marionette who, through the skill of its creator, took a friendly bow.

You could have heard a pin drop as the boys gaped at the sight of Geppetto and the marionette.

"Jeez,' Racetrack blurted as the cigar fell from his mouth. "The old man's finally lost it."

"Quiet!" Jack whispered. "We don't wanna upset the old guy. He could go nuts and kill us all!"

"I think it's kinda cute," Dutchy said, making his way to the front of the group. "Where'd you get it, Kloppman?"

"I made him myself," Geppetto said with pride. "Say hi to Dutchy, PIEnocchio."

Dutchy chuckled when the marionette reached out its hand in a welcoming gesture. "It's good to meet you, PIEnocchio," Dutchy laughed returning the handshake. "Hey, Kloppman, can he do anything else?"

"A'course he can," Geppetto replied confidently.

"Dutchy watched intently as PIEnocchio was put through his paces. First he walked across the desk, then he danced, and then, to Dutchy's amazement (and Geppetto Kloppman's skill as a puppeteer), PIEnocchio did a positively amazing backflip.

"Wow! That was terrific!" Dutchy exclaimed. "Make him do that again!"

Geppetto beamed with pride as he moved the strings attached to his wooden son, and Dutchy applauded and laughed with delight as PIEnocchio did a backflip that was even better than the first.

"Gee, Kloppman. That was fantastic!"

"Do you really like him, Dutchy?"

"Like him? I love him! I've never seen anything like this in my life!"

"C'mon, Dutchy," Specs said, taking his friend by the arm and pulling him toward the door. "We'd better get goin' if we're gonna sell the evening edition."

"Yeah—um, okay. See ya, Kloppman. You did a great job," Dutchy called as he was dragged out the front door.

The days and weeks went by and Geppetto Kloppman grew more attached to PIEnocchio. The boys of the lodging house now avoided their father figure as though he had the plague. They were afraid of him, and embarrassed by his strange behavior. Only Dutchy remained unshaken by the sight of Geppetto and PIEnocchio both waving goodbye when the boys left for work every morning. Each night when they returned, Dutchy would sit at the front desk while Geppetto made PIEnocchio dance and do backflips.

One evening while Dutchy, Geppetto, and PIEnocchio sat at the front desk, the older newsies called a meeting in the alley alongside of the lodging house.

"We've gotta put a stop to this," Jack said. "The old man ain't gonna get any better if that dope doesn't stop encouraging him. Why don't you talk to him, Specs? You're his best friend."

"I've tried to talk to him, but it doesn't do any good. He says that Kloppman ain't doin' harm to anybody, and he thinks that we should lay off'a the old guy."

"Well, then we'll all talk to him." Jack said. "Specs, you go and bring him out here."

Specs sighed at what they were about to do and reluctantly trudged up the front stairs. "Hey, Dutch," he called from the doorway. "Can you come out here for a minute? I need to see you in private."

"Sure thing, Specs. See ya later, Kloppman," Dutchy said as he shook PIEnocchio's hand.

"Hi-ya, guys! What's up?" Dutchy asked when he saw his friends waiting in the alley.

"We wanna talk to you about the way you've been actin' towards Old Kloppman," Jack began.

"Whadda you mean, the way I've been actin' towards Kloppman? I've been treatin' him the same way as I always have."

"That's the problem," Racetrack snapped. "The old man's lost his mind and you've been encouraging him."

"Kloppman hasn't lost his mind. He's just a lonely old man, is all."

"Well, it ain't normal," Specs grumbled. "If he's lonely, why doesn't he do like everyone else does and find a real person to keep him company?"

"What the old man really needs is to go out and get himself laid," Racetrack added through a puff of smoke from his cigar.

"That's your answer for everything, isn't it, Race?" Dutchy sneered. "By the way, how is Spot these days?"

"Why you…"

"Break it up! Break it up!" Jack ordered. "Okay, Dutch. Let me lay this on the line for you. The old man is actin' crazy, and if the big shots at the Ladies and Orphans Foundation find out about it they're gonna fire him. They may even have him locked up in the lunatic asylum. If that happens, we're gonna find ourselves livin' out on the street, and the little guys are goin' back to the orphanage or to The Refuge. Do you want that to happen?"

"A'course I don't want that to happen."

"Well, then you've gotta stop encouraging him to play with that stupid doll."

"It's not a doll, Jack. It's called a marionette."

"I don't care what the hell you call it! It's strange, and I want you to stop givin' him an excuse to play with that thing!"

"C'mon, Dutch," Specs said, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder. "You know we're right."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it."

"You really like that thing, don't you, Dutch?"

"I love it, Specs. I look forward to coming home at night and watching Kloppman make PIEnocchio dance and do backflips. It's the only entertainment we have in this crummy place. And it's good for the old guy too. He's been really happy since he made that thing."

Dutchy glanced at the front desk as the boys shuffled up the stairs to the bunkroom, but Geppetto was nowhere in sight. What they hadn't realized was that the window of Kloppman's bedroom was open to the alley, and he'd heard everything they said. Heartbroken, the old gentleman slumped down into his chair with PIEnocchio at his side. "They all think that I'm crazy," Geppetto whispered to his wooden son.

The days went bye, and Dutchy continued to keep his distance from Geppetto and PIEnocchio. He'd give the old man a quick hello or goodbye as he passed the desk, but he no longer stopped to visit. It broke Dutchy's heart to see Kloppman and PIEnocchio silently watching as the boys ran past them without a word or even a nod. Dutchy could no longer bring himself to look at PIEnocchio. He thought the marionette actually looked sad waving at him.

After a week of being ignored by Dutchy and the other boys, Geppetto became more and more depressed. Eventually, he only came out of his room when it was absolutely necessary. He would sit alone with PIEnocchio at his side and stare out the window into the darkness.

"Why can't life be like the storybooks that my mother read to me when I was a child?" Geppetto sighed, looking out at the stars shining above the city. "I wish that PIEnocchio was my real son. Then I would no longer be lonely, and the boys wouldn't think that I was a crazy old fool."

Geppetto's attention was drawn to the front room by the sound of the service bell ringing on his desk. He dragged himself from his bedroom and was taken aback by the strange young man before him. The boy was very tall and strangely handsome, and had an impish grin filled with beautiful white teeth.

"Are you Kloppman?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, that's me," Geppetto said as he shuffled to the desk.

"Are you okay? I mean, I heard what you were saying back there. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You heard me making a wish?"

"Loud and clear."

"And you want to help?"

"If I can."

"You wouldn't by any chance be the good fairy come to grant my wish, would you?"

"Hey! Who are you callin' a fairy, old man? I ain't no fairy. I'm just graceful, is all!"

"Sorry, kid. I guess that I'm just old and crazy like the boys say I am. I was foolish enough to make a wish on a star tonight, and then when you showed up…."

"Oh! You thought I was _that_ kind of fairy. Sorry, pal, but I ain't in the fairy business. I'm just a kid who's come lookin' for a bed for the night. Although I did work as a Happy Forest Sprite for a while."

"What's a Happy Forest Sprite?"

"Well, the instructional pamphlet they gave me when I started my apprenticeship said that a Sprite is a happy and playful being with magical powers. Unfortunately, the average height for a Happy Forest Sprite is about 4'11". Seeing as I'm almost six feet tall, and the rate of pay for a Happy Forest Sprite actually sucks, I decided to give up the Sprite business to become a newsie. I still have my union card, but I haven't frolicked in the woods at night for a long time now."

Geppetto Kloppman raised an eyebrow as he examined the strange boy. "Well, whatever gets you through the night, kid. I should'a known better anyway. I'm too old to be wishin' on stars and believing in miracles."

"Well, like I said, I ain't no fairy, but I think I still nave some Happy Forest Sprite dust somewhere in my backpack." The boy dug around in his bag and came out with a handful of sparkling dust. With one very graceful movement, he sprinkled PIEnocchio with the dust.

Geppetto and the tall stranger stood watching PIEnocchio for some sign of life, but there was nothing.

"Sorry, mister. I didn't think that it would work, but it was worth a shot. So how about that bunk? You got any room for me?"

"Sure, kid, sign here. Just go to the top of the stairs and take any bunk that's empty. And thanks for tryin'."

"No problem," the boy replied. "And cheep up. Things are bound to get better. They always do."

End Chapter 1

Thanks for reading. Your reviews will be greatly appreciated.


	2. Contusions and Concussions

Chapter 2 – Contusions and Concussions

Dutchy tossed and turned in his bunk, unable to sleep. He was feeling guilty about the way he'd been treating Geppetto Kloppman. He kept picturing the old man standing silently at his desk while sadly moving the marionette strings. He was also troubled by the image of PIEnocchio waving goodbye. Dutchy knew it was impossible, but he swore that he saw PIEnocchio's painted wooden face frown when he last snuck a look.

Finally, Dutchy pulled on his trousers and shirt, then slipped quietly down the stairs.

He padded past Kloppman's desk and entered the meeting room. After placing a couple of fresh logs onto the dying fire, he pulled up a chair to warm his cold feet. Dutchy lost all track of time as he watched the flames dance around the logs.

"Hello," said a voice from behind him.

"Jeez! You nearly scared the life out'a me, kid."

"I'm sorry, Dutchy. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Who are you, and how do you know my name?"

"Don't you recognize me, Dutchy?"

"Well, you do look familiar. And those clothes you're wearin'. They look familiar too. You kinda look like… Nah, that's crazy."

"What's crazy, Dutchy?"

"I was gonna say that you look like this puppet that old Kloppman's got. Even your clothes look like his."

"Kloppman didn't have a puppet, Dutchy. It's called marionette. Puppets don't have strings."

"How'd you know that Kloppman's got a marionette? Are you a friend of his or somethin'?

"No, Dutchy, I'm not a friend of Kloppman. I'm a friend of yours. Kloppman is my father. I'm PIEnocchio."

Dutchy leaped from his chair and took a few steps toward the boy. "Look, kid," he said, waving his fist. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but that bit about being Kloppman's son ain't funny. Kloppman ain't been feelin' too good lately, and talk like that is only gonna upset him!"

"I am PIEnocchio, Dutchy. And I don't want anything. I just wanted to say hello. I miss you saying hello to me. It made me sad that you've been passing by without stopping to see me."

"Jeez! Has this entire place gone crazy?"

"I don't know, Dutchy. I don't know much about this place. I haven't been past the front desk, but if you say that it's gone crazy, I will believe you."

"What are you, some kind of nut?"

"No. My father didn't carve me from the wood of a nut tree. I was made from the wood of a maple tree."

"Oh! Now I get it. I must have fallen asleep. Pinch me, I'm dreamin'!"

"Okay."

"Ouch! It was just an expression, you ass. I didn't really want you to pinch me."

"Oh. I'm sorry. This is all very new to me. I suppose that I have a lot to learn about being a real boy, but you are my friend, and you can teach me everything I need to know."

PIEnocchio moved toward Dutchy, who wanted to keep as much distance between him and the confused stranger as possible. Dutchy took a step backward and tripped, smacking his head on the chair as he fell. He hovered momentarily between consciousness and unconsciousness as a gentle voice seeped through muffled waves of fog. As the whirling stars in his head began to fade, Dutchy felt a cool, smooth hand caressing his brow as a strong arm cradled him like a baby. He sighed contentedly and leaned into the comforting embrace.

"Are you alright?" PIEnocchio asked.

Dutchy's eyes flew open at the sound of the voice. Fear took over when he realized the he was in the arms of the strange boy who claimed to be Kloppman's son, the marionette. Dutchy sat up too quickly and felt an excruciating pain in the back of his head. Again, the stars whirled as the floor beneath him moved.

"Take it easy," PIEnocchio said. "You have a large contusion on the back of your head. If you want to sit up you have to do it very slowly and then you will be alright."

"What the hell is a contusion?" Dutchy asked as PIEnocchio helped to sit him up.

"It's a large bump. You'll be lucky if you don't have a concussion after a blow like that."

"Contusion? … Concussion? … Where did you learn words like those?"

"Before my father carved me, I was a tree in the woods across from a medical college. Every day the students would come to sit in the shade of my branches and study. I learned all kinds of things while I was standing there."

"There you go taklin' all crazy again," Dutchy grumbled. "I don't know where you came from, kid, but you ain't Kloppman's PIEnocchio. Maybe you're the one who's got a contusion, and you just think that you're his son."

"But I am PIEnocchio, Dutchy."

"Well, if you are him, then prove it."

"Okay. You used to stop and shake my hand every morning before you left for work. How would I know that if I wasn't PIEnocchio?"

"More than twenty guys saw that every day. One of them coulda mentioned it out on the streets and you heard him. Just 'cause you know that, doesn't mean that you're PIEnocchio."

"Well, every night you would sit at my father's desk while he made me dance for you."

"You coulda heard that out on the streets, too."

"Okay. But I know what your favorite thing was. And before you say that I could have heard that on the streets, too, I'm going to show you."

With that, PIEnocchio moved the chairs from the middle of the room, and did the most amazing backflip that Dutchy had ever seen.

"Wow! That was terrific! Can you do that again?" Dutchy asked.

"Sure, I can." PIEnocchio smiled. He moved back further and did two perfect backflips in a row. Then, just to show off, he walked a few steps on his hands to where Dutchy sat on the floor.

"That's fantastic!" Dutchy said, springing to his feet. Immediately the room started to spin, and Dutchy fell backward. At least he thought it was backward. He really couldn't tell which direction he was headed except for down. PIEnocchio was at Dutchy's side in a flash, catching him and lowering him to the floor.

"I told you not to make any sudden moves," PIEnocchio scolded. "Your equilibrium is off."

"My equa-what?"

"Equlibrium," PIEnocchio repeated as he walked over to Kloppman's desk and returned with a pitcher of water. "It means that you're getting dizzy."

"No shit!" Dutchy, said feeling the bump on the back of his head.

PIEnocchio sat on the floor and removed his black kerchief. As he pulled the cloth from his neck, a wave of sparkling dust flew from its folds.

"What the hell is that?" Dutchy asked as he watched the shower of silver floating through the air.

"That's the magic dust that the Happy Forest Sprite used to turn me from a marionette into a real boy."

"Happy Forest Sprite? What's a Happy Forest Sprite?"

"It's kinda like a fairy only it doesn't have wings and is a little less flamboyant. I used to see them frolicking in the woods all the time back when I was a tree."

"Damn, my head hurts," Dutchy groaned.

"I'm gonna take care of that right now," PIEnocchio said. He dipped his kerchief into the cool water and placed it on the back of Dutchy's head. "How does that feel?"

"Well, it feels a little better," Dutchy admitted. "But I don't know how I'm going to go out tomorrow and sell my papes if I can't even stand up. If I can't sell, then I won't have enough money to buy any food or to pay my lodging. I'm gonna end up hungry and sleepin' out on the street."

"Well, there is one more thing I can try to make you feel better."

"I'll be willing to try anything. It's gonna rain tomorrow and if I have to sleep outside I'm gonna—"

Dutchy's words were silenced by PIEnocchio's lips pressing against his. The pain in his head was soon washed away by the warm feeling that flowed through his body. "Wow! That was great." Dutchy sighed. "My headache is completely gone. Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"In the park when I was still a tree. Mothers would bring their children to run and play in my shade, and sometimes the children would fall and get hurt. When that happened, the mothers would say, 'Let me kiss it and make it better.' When they did, the children would stop crying and become happy and start playing again."

"I don't think that was the kind of kiss those mothers had in mind, but it sure made my headache go away."

"Well, I don't think that I did it right," PIEnocchio said sadly.

"Sure, you did. My headache is completely gone."

"Yes, but you've given it to me."

"You have a headache?"

"Well, I have an ache, but it's not in my head."

"Whadda you mean, you have an ache but not in your head? Where do you have an—Oh, you mean that you have an ache down there?" Dutchy said, gesturing toward PIEnocchio's visibly tightening trousers.

"Uh-huh."

"But it isn't a bad feeling, is it?" Dutchy asked.

"Well, no. It's kinda nice. Maybe I jut don't understand. I am still new at being a real boy. Does this happen all of the time?"

"Not all of the time, but it can happen when you least expect it. Like now. It's not supposed to happen when you kiss a boy because boys aren't supposed to kiss boys."

"That's not true," PIEnocchio protested. "Back when I was a tree, the boys from the medical college would sit in my shade and study during the day. At night, they would come and sit under my branches in the dark and they would kiss… a lot. They would kiss, and they would do other things, too."

"What kind of things?" Dutchy's eyes were growing wide with excitement.

"Well, I'm not sure what you call it, but I could show you. The boys did it all the time, and they really looked as though they liked it. Would you like me to show you, Dutchy?"

"Um, yeah. That would be great," Dutchy said, looking over his shoulder to make sure that they were alone. "But we are gonna have to be real quiet. Maybe it's okay for those boys at the medical college to go around kissing each other and – uh - other stuff, but it ain't okay to do that around here. We could get into a lot of trouble if anyone found out."

"Okay, Dutchy. I don't understand, but if you say that I should be quiet then I will. There is so much to learn about being a real boy, but I know you will teach me because you love me so much."

"Whadda you mean, I love you?"

"I heard you tell my father that you loved me the first time you saw me. And I heard you tell you friend that you loved me when you were talking to him out in the alley."

"I'm sorry, PIEnocchio, but when I said that I love you, I didn't mean it the way you think I did. It's just an expression."

"You mean that you don't really love me?" PIEnocchio asked, disappointedly. "But I love you?"

"You do?"

"Yes. I loved you the very first time that I saw you. You were standing in back of the crowd of boys the afternoon that my father introduced me to you all. You looked so handsome with your big smile and your pretty blond hair. All of the other boys laughed at me, but you didn't. You pushed them aside, came right up, and shook my hand. And you didn't care that the other boys were laughing at you either. You still came to see me every night and every morning. I heard you telling your friend that you'd look forward all day to seeing me. I don't know a lot about being a real boy, but I'm pretty sure that means you love me, too."

"Gee, I guess that maybe it does mean that I love you, too."

"Well, if I love you, and you love me, does that mean we can kiss again and that you will teach me how to be a real boy?"

"Only if you'll teach me what those boys at the medical college did under your branches in the dark at night."

"Sure! I'll show you right now."

"But you have to promise that you won't tell any of the other boys about this. They're my friends, and they'll be your friend, too, but you're my boyfriend now, and that has to be a secret between you and me."

"Okay, Dutchy, I promise."

"Good, now start teaching!"

The next morning, Geppetto Kloppman stumbled out of his room and couldn't believe his eyes. There, lying in front of the fireplace, were the two sleeping boys, still wrapped in each other's arms. Kloppman gaped. "PIEnocchio? Is that you?"

"Good morning, Father. Yes, it _is_ me," PIEnocchio whispered, so as to not awaken Dutchy. "I am PIEnocchio, and I am a real boy."

"It's a miracle! Oh, PIEnocchio, you have made your father so happy."

"It is wonderful, isn't it, Father?" PIEnocchio asked, sliding out from under Dutchy's arm and tiptoeing across the room. "It took a little while, but the Happy Forest Sprite dust did work. Then I came out here and found Dutchy. He didn't believe that I was really PIEnocchio at first, but after I kissed him—"

"Jeez, PIEnocchio, will you shut it!" Dutchy said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You promised not to tell anyone."

"No, you made me promise not to tell any of the boys. You didn't say that I couldn't tell my father. Did I do something wrong?"

"Don't sweat it, boys." Kloppman smiled. "It's okay with me. I'm what you call a progressive and non-judgmental parent. But Dutchy is right, PIEnocchio. You can't tell anyone else about this, okay?"

"Okay, Father, I won't tell anyone else. But it is all so wonderful, isn't it? Dutchy is going to take me out and teach me how to sell newspapers today. He said that he will teach me how to be a real boy, and I'm going to teach him more of what I learned from watching the boys when they were kissing–and other things–in the park at night."

"Jeez, PIEnocchio, you're killing me, here!" Dutchy moaned. "How about you let _me_ do the talking until you get the hang of being a real boy? And Kloppman, I think that it would be better if we don't tell the other guys about this wooden boy/Forest Sprite business. We'll say that the whole marionette thing was just a joke. Tell them that you made it to look like your real son who just arrived. That way the guys won't give PIEnocchio a hard time, and they'll stop talking about sending you to the insane asylum."

"Okay, maybe you're right. Well, I'd better go and get my stick. It's about time to roust those lazy bums out'a bed." Geppetto Kloppman was almost dancing with joy as he went back into his room

"How does your head feel?" PIEnocchio asked, reaching out to touch the bump on the back of Dutchy's head.

With one swift movement, Dutchy leaned PIEnocchio against the wall and pressed their bodies together.

"I still have a bit of a headache. How about you kiss me and make it better again?"

Geppetto came out of his room as Dutchy was pulling away from the kiss. "I do love you, PIEnocchio."

"And I love you, too, Dutchy," PIEnocchio replied with another kiss.

"Ain't love grand?" Geppetto sighed.

"I see that my Happy Forest Sprite dust worked," the tall stranger said as he floated gracefully down the stairs. The boy smiled as he and Geppetto Kloppman watched PIEnocchio and Dutchy from the hallway. "I'm a sucker for a happy ending, aren't you?"

When Dutchy heard the stranger's voice, he pulled from the embrace and stepped protectively in front of PIEnocchio. "Who the hell are you?" he growled.

"It's okay, Dutchy," PIEnocchio said, pressing a firm hand on his shoulder. "We don't have to be afraid of him. This is the Happy Forest Sprite that turned me into a real boy. Happy Forest Sprites are good. I used to see them all of the time in the woods when I was still a tree. They never bothered the boys that were kissing–and other things–under my branches in the dark of night."

"That's right, kid. Live and let live is what I always say. Your secret's safe with me."

"In that case…" Dutchy grinned, pulling PIEnocchio in for a kiss that made their toes curl.

"I have a feeling that PIEnocchio and Dutchy are going to live happily ever after." Geppetto Kloppman beamed.

"Whoa, there, old-timer," the tall stranger warned. "You can't say _happily ever after_ yet."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's right here in the official Forest Sprite Handbook. Page 247, paragraph 4, sub-paragraph 3: 'In the event that Happy Forest Spite dust is used in a manner that results in two persons falling in love, then all parties involved must acknowledge a moral to the story before the parties of the first part can live happily ever after.'"

"What the hell does that mean?" Kloppman griped.

"It means that you each have to tell what you learned from this experience. That's called telling the moral of the story."

"Oh, crap," Kloppman choked out. "There's going to be a test? Nobody said anything about a test. I never was any good at—"

"This isn't a test, Father," PIEnocchio interrupted. "I've seen them do this hundreds of times. We need to tell the Happy Forest Sprite what we learned. If we don't, the magic dust will stop working, and I will turn back into a wooden boy. But if we finish the moral of the story, then I will be officially, and forever, a real boy. Please, Father. Tell the Sprite what you have learned before it's too late."

"Okay, Son. Don't get your knickers in a twist." Geppetto sighed. "I learned that it doesn't matter if the rest of the world thinks you're crazy; you are never too old to wish on a star."

"Very good," the tall stranger said. "And what did you learn, PIEnocchio?"

"I learned that no matter how impossible things may seam, you have to hold on to your dreams because wishes do come true."

"Excellent! And what about you?" the tall stranger asked Dutchy. "Did you learn anything from this experience?"

"Hell, yeah. I think that I learned the most of all. First, I learned what the boys at the medical college did in the woods an night when they thought that nobody was looking. PIEnocchio and I are going to make good use of that information in the future."

"That's good information to be sure," the tall stranger said. "But that's not the kind of thing that makes a good moral to a story. Did you learn anything else?"

"Yeah. I learned that you can find love when and where you least expect it."

"That's very insightful." The tall stranger nodded.

"Wait! I'm not finished. There's more to it than that."

"Ah, I love an overachiever. Go ahead, and tell us what else you learned."

"Well, I learned that it doesn't matter if you are young or old, and it doesn't matter if you are rich or poor. The only thing that matters is love. And I learned that love is even more magical when the boy you fall in love with has the best wood in town.

"That was a cheesy and predictable ending, but it will do." The tall stranger nodded. "So by the powers vested in me by the International Union of Happy Forest Sprites, Local 127, I now declare that PIEnocchio is a real boy, and that he and Dutchy will live Happily Ever After. The End."

"The end?" Dutchy scoffed. "This ain't the end," he said, pulling PIEnocchio into a tight embrace. "This is only the beginning."

"Hey, have you got any more of that Happy Forest Sprite dust in that bag of yours?" Kloppman asked the tall stranger.

"Nope, but I can get some anytime I want. I know a wholesaler over on Delancey Street. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking that maybe it was time that I start carving myself a couple of grandkids."

And they all lived _Happily Ever After_.

End

Thanks for reading. You're your reviews will be greatly appreciated.


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